by Ciara Shayee
“Sweet dreams, Laker.”
Laker turned to head down the stairs but paused when he felt fingers grasping the back of his tank. He twisted, about to ask what Indie needed, but his words cut off abruptly in his throat when her lips landed on his cheek in a soft, but firm, kiss. She lingered there for just a beat longer than strictly necessary, pulling back with a bashful smile.
“Thank you. For everything. I really don’t know what I’d have done without you, this last year. The kids love you, and I—I do, too.”
Before Laker could say a thing, not that he was able anyway, slack-jawed and awed by the heat spreading from the spot on his cheek that she’d kissed, Indie was in her bedroom with the door closing silently behind her.
After stumbling down the hall to his temporary bedroom and falling into bed, Laker fought sleep for a long time.
He wore a grin on his face and held new knowledge within his heart.
No matter how long he lived, or whatever did or didn’t happen between him and Indie in the future, he would always be content to know that she loved him—even if it wasn’t in the same, all-encompassing, life-defining way in which he loved her.
chapter thirty-two
The two months between Christmas and the Rome trip passed in a blur.
In January, on her birthday, they released yellow balloons in memory of Karen—Grace, Heidi, and Pippa’s mum. Yellow was her favourite colour.
On the first of February, they celebrated Clarke’s eleventh birthday with the Walters. After playing all day with their dog, Bonnie, who was decked out in a sparkly, conical hat to celebrate her boy’s birthday, Marley began pleading her case for a puppy of her own, having fallen totally head over heels for her new, four-legged best friend. Indie made no promises, but she saw the look on Laker’s face as Marley attempted to bargain with him—‘’mooches forever,’ in exchange for a puppy.
Indie doubted that he’d make it a year before caving.
On Valentine’s Day, Laker purchased three red roses.
The first was for Sarah, to keep up with the tradition he’d started as a boy. The other two, very special ones, were for each of his two favourite girls. Marley had been thoroughly confused as to what she was meant to do with hers, but once it had been explained, she’d tended to the flower lovingly for three days until Sarah helped her press it. It now hung above her bed in a frame.
Indie’s cheeks had flamed the same colour as the rose when Laker handed it to her, but she, too, had tenderly cared for hers.
By the time March arrived, Indie had packed and re-packed her case, as well as Marley and Bodhi’s, several times.
They had an early afternoon flight, so the group made their way to the airport in a minibus mid-morning, not wanting to have to spend too much time there, but not wanting to rush, either.
They were a large group, after all—thirteen people, including Carl-Roman, who’d turned seven in November, five-year-old Marley, six-month-old Bodhi, and Chase, who’d celebrated his birthday back in November, too. Kristen was noticeably absent, but had off-handedly mentioned ‘possibly’ joining them halfway through the holiday.
Nobody was holding their breath for that to happen; no-one expected her to show up, not even her fiancé.
Mary, Roy, Heidi, and Pippa waved them off, promising to join them in two weeks in time to celebrate the twenty-second birthdays of Grace and Indie, as well as Marley’s sixth.
~ oOo ~
“Mummy, look! Look at the clouds!”
Indie smiled, resting a hand on Laker’s thigh to steady herself as she leaned over him to look out the window. There were lots of clouds, just as Marley said. Well, shouted was more like it. More than once she’d tried to remind her exuberant daughter to calm down, but it hadn’t made a lick of difference.
Marley was so excited she was getting to ride an airplane that she’d woken up at five a.m. and been practically vibrating with energy ever since.
“Baby girl, do you want some of your juice?”
“No, thank you, Mummy.” She twisted, standing on her seat to grin at Reagan, who was seated behind her. “Pawpaw, look! Look at the clouds. So pretty,” she sighed, resting her chin between her hands on the back of the chair.
“Mah! Ba ba ba.”
Indie smiled, standing to stretch her legs and face her baby boy. Peter had stolen him shortly after they boarded and Bodhi had been pretty content thus far considering he wasn’t a big fan of being still now that he’d mastered army crawling. Of course, setting him down in the aisle of the plane wasn’t exactly an option. Peter had done pretty well to keep him occupied for the first hour of the flight; Indie was impressed.
“You want me to take him, Uncle Pete? He’s probably getting hungry.”
“Better had, I need to use the restroom. Thanks, Indie.”
Bodhi gave his mother a wide, gummy grin as he was handed over, patting her cheeks cheerfully when she sat down with him after pulling a sachet of his favourite puree down from the overhead storage bin. Laker chuckled and fastened a bib around Bodhi’s neck, snapping photos as Indie struggled to keep her son upright while attempting to minimise the mess he made with his apple and banana food.
With a full belly and a bottle of milk, Bodhi was more than content to sit on Indie’s lap and watch his big sister climb all over Laker. He adored Marley fiercely. If they were in the same room, his eyes were always following her. And if she was close enough for him to hear her voice, he’d reach for her and get agitated if she didn’t appear quickly enough. It was beautiful to see, and never failed to make Reagan emotional when he witnessed their bond; so similar to the one their mother shared with their uncle.
~ oOo ~
By the time they landed in Rome, at the Leonardo da Vinci Airport, Marley was desperate to have more than a square foot of space in which to roam, and both Bodhi and Chase were more than ready for their long-overdue afternoon naps.
The group hurried through the airport as quickly as possible, Indie carrying Marley while Laker held Bodhi in his sling against his chest. He was growing increasingly fussy, though Laker tried his best to keep him as calm as possible. The airport was busy enough that Indie’s anxiety had begun to climb in tandem with Grace’s nerves. Indie, in particular, didn’t need the added stress of attempting to soothe her cranky baby.
Thankfully, with Riley’s connections and Laker’s ability to act as translator, they managed to make it through all the security checks and reach their rental vehicle fairly quickly, and with surprising ease.
Enrico had arranged two cars for the group—both six-seaters, with plenty of room for their luggage. They were parked side-by-side in the garage, so the group wasted no time in loading them up once the attendant had pointed them out. He was a portly man with kind brown eyes and short grey hair. He grinned, showing off the gap between his two top teeth, as he peered into the sling on Laker’s chest, asking how old the sleeping baby was and telling Laker how like him Bodhi looked.
“Sembra proprio come te. Quanti anni ha?”
Laker frowned, glancing down at Bodhi before shooting Indie a look she couldn’t decipher and telling the porter before translating for the others. “Quasi sette mesi. He’s almost seven months.”
“Ahh. Devi essere molto orgoglioso.”
Indie had no idea what Laker was saying, but a quick glance at the rest of her family revealed that she was the only person paying any attention; everybody else was busy loading the minibuses. Marley had abandoned her in favour of sitting in the driving seat of the red minibus with Carl-Roman, so she was left beside Laker and the parking attendant, having no clue as to what they were discussing.
The way he kept glancing sideways at Bodhi, and her, from the corner of his eyes, made it seem entirely likely that she and Bodhi were the subject of their conversation.
“Immensamente. Lui e sua sorella mi rendono orgoglioso ogni giorno.”
The older man laughed, reaching out to clasp Laker’s shoulder in his bony, wrinkled hand. “Li ami mol
to, è facile da vedere.”
With a sigh, Laker nodded, his lips curling upward into a small smile. “Li amo più della mia vita.”
Indie knew enough, thanks to Laker’s slip-ups in recent months and subsequent Italian lessons with Marley and Carl-Roman, to work out that he’d said ‘I love’ and ‘my life’ in his last sentence, but the words that strung the phrases together were a mystery.
The parking attendant wandered away with a wink in Indie’s direction, leaving her staring at Laker’s back as he set about removing Bodhi from his sling to settle him in the car seat Reagan had installed. She snapped herself out of the stupor caused by hearing Laker speak Italian and resolved to ask him what he’d discussed with the older man later on.
~ oOo ~
“Umm, Laker?”
He turned to face Grace as he rummaged in his backpack with his free hand; with his other, he cradled Bodhi. He shot Grace a cursory glance. “Yeah?”
She blinked, rubbing sleep from her eyes and shaking her head. “This is your house?”
“Mmhmm. It doesn’t look that big from the front, but it spreads out in the back.”
“I don’t…that’s not what I was getting at.”
Sarah wound her arm around Grace, giving her a light squeeze. “It’s certainly something, isn’t it? I had the same reaction as you when I saw it the first time after he finished it.”
“Wait…” Grace replayed Sarah’s words in her head as Laker cheered under his breath, finally locating the keys. “‘Finished it?’”
“I built this place with Nonno Enrico, from the ground up,” Laker admitted proudly as he waved everybody forward into the villa.
Reagan entered first, lights switching on automatically ahead of him. Everybody else followed; Sarah pulled Grace along gently.
The pride and awe on Indie’s face didn’t escape Grace’s notice, either.
Indie walked in beside Laker, each of them cradling one of her children. Marley was fast asleep at this point, out like a light draped over Indie’s chest with her head on her mother’s shoulder, her face tucked into her neck. Bodhi had woken up when Laker removed him from his car seat and was looking around at his new surroundings with wide-eyed wonder.
It was dark out, so the group hadn’t been able to see much of the villa, apart from that it was built from rustic, sand-coloured stone. It didn’t appear to be very large, though they immediately realised they were wrong when they entered through the front door.
They were on a sort of landing which spanned the length of the building they’d stepped into, roughly half the width, with a railing separating it from the lower living area and a wooden staircase in the same, honey-coloured wood as the front door, leading down. Indie moved to peer over, surprised to see the relatively modern furnishings beneath—a contrast to the rustic architecture of the building itself. Whites and honey wood seemed to be the staple.
“I don’t entertain much, but this is usually where I have guests over,” Laker said softly, leading the group down the stairs. They followed dutifully, only Andy and Sarah unsurprised at the grandeur, yet simplicity, of Laker’s home.
“This isn’t a villa, Laker,” Peter told him with a chuckle. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not a villa.”
Laker turned to grin at his uncle. “According to Nonna Contessa, it’s technically a ‘farmhouse’ by design. But, obviously, I don’t raise animals here, nor do I farm crops.” He opened a pair of double doors and led everyone through the corridor on the other side until they reached the second set of doors. “Okay, so this is the living room I actually prefer. It’s cosier.”
Indie couldn’t help but smile when she brought up the rear, stepping into the room amidst gasps and murmurs of approval. The room was painted cream, the motion-activated lamps lighting it with a warm glow. A cream brick fireplace had been lit in the corner thanks to the regular cleaning company Laker employed for when he was due to return after a trip away anywhere, and the terracotta tiles underfoot were toasty even through the thin soles of Indie’s flipflops. A pair of large, grey, L-shaped sofas were placed opposite one another, almost creating a rectangle, with a square wooden table in the centre.
When Marley woke, she’d doubtlessly be all over the bowls of candies someone had placed in the middle of the table.
The soothing crackle of the flames dancing in the hearth made the framed photos decorating the mantle appear alive; Indie stepped forward to take a closer look. The first was clearly Laker as a child, even before Indie met him. She’d guess that he was around three years old, with his toothy grin and a football tucked under one arm, wild chestnut hair standing in a crazy tangle atop his head.
There were a couple of photos of him with his parents, his mother looking decidedly miserable in both, and then Indie got to a cluster of photos she didn’t recognise, but made her smile all the same; they were all in England.
Each one contained some combination of Laker, Archie, Indie, Grace, Heidi, Pippa, Reagan, and Peter. At the beach, the park, a games night at Peter’s, a barbecue at Reagan’s house; they were all happy memories. The children grew up before Indie’s eyes, Laker’s boyish grin changing from goofy to charming as he grew from a boy into a young man.
The photos ended during that spring.
The spring of the abduction.
The last photo was of all six kids. It was taken the same day as the photo Reagan displayed in the hall back in England—of the children piled, fast asleep, on a blanket. The difference was that in this photo they were all awake and sitting on a bench with ice cream in sticky hands and bright smiles in place on rosy faces.
Indie adjusted Marley carefully, reaching out to trace her own face through the glass of the frame. She looked happy. Watermelon ice cream ringed her lips as she grinned at the camera, one hand clutching her cone, the other clasped with Grace’s fingers. Heidi and Pippa were five-years-old at the time, both covered in ice cream and wearing identical smiles. Behind the four girls, Archie and Laker sat atop the picnic table, beaming and carelessly messy-haired.
They made a beautiful, happy image.
“I like that one, too. It’s one of my favourites.”
Indie started, surprised to feel Laker’s hand resting at the small of her back. She looked around, noticing that they were alone. Well, besides Marley and Bodhi.
“I pointed everyone toward their rooms. You seemed engrossed,” he said softly, smiling in a way that belied his curiosity.
“It’s nice to see us all so happy and peaceful,” Indie told him. “I’ve never seen this one. It was the same day as the one on the picnic blanket, wasn’t it?”
Laker nodded, dimples appearing as he smiled crookedly. “Yeah. It was so freaking cold, but you girls insisted we should get ice cream anyway.” He picked up the photo, his eyes thoughtful, before setting it back down with a sigh. “Reagan has almost the exact same one of Carl-Roman, Little Sweet, Chase, and Bodhi. I think he wants to get it on a canvas, though.”
Indie nodded, remembering her dad mentioning it. He’d taken a bunch of photos of Marley and Bodhi’s first park visit, and it was one of those that he wanted blown up to go in the kitchen. Laker was right; it was very similar to this picture.
“All right, do you want me to show you to your room? I gave you the bigger one, so you’ve got lots of room for Little Sweet and the little guy.”
“Sure. Thank you, Laker.”
“No problem.” Laker led Indie through another corridor, then down a flight of stone stairs. They passed only two doors on their way—one was clearly a bathroom, as Indie spotted a toilet on her way by, but the other door was closed to her curious eyes. She was agog at the grand size of the building, seemingly never-ending as it was. Even more so when they reached the room Laker had saved for her.
The terracotta tiles went throughout the building and continued here, as did the cream walls and honey-toned wood. The room boasted a four-poster bed made up with white bedding and chocolate brown cushions, a soft, fluffy throw in
the same chocolate colour draped over the end. A cream fabric lounge chair sat in the corner between two curtained windows. A fireplace sat opposite the bed with a sun-shaped mirror above, and Indie spotted a travel crib already set up beside the queen-size bed. On the other side of the large room stood an imposing wooden wardrobe, its matching dresser standing beneath the third window on the same wall as the door through which they’d entered.
She was stunned.
“Laker, this…this room is beautiful! If this is your guest bedroom, I’d love to see what your room looks like!”
Mesmerised by the room as she was, Indie didn’t notice the look that crossed Laker’s face at her words, or the heat that flashed within his eyes, darkening them to jade.
He coughed through a suddenly tight throat, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Maybe. So, ah, I’ll leave you to get settled, then? You want Bodhi in the crib?”
Indie carefully settled Marley on the bed, managing not to wake her though she did roll and snuggle Mr. Bunny to her chest with a soft sigh, before taking Bodhi from Laker. “That’s okay, I need to get him changed for bed anyway. Thank you, though.”
“No problem. I’m just up the corridor, second door on the right if you need anything.”
“All right. ‘Night, Laker.”
Despite his momentary awkwardness, Laker smiled and reached out to tuck a loose lock of Indie’s hair behind her ear. She flushed under his intense perusal and peered up at him from beneath her lashes. “Buona notte, bella ragazza.”
She raised her free hand to the spot where his fingers had brushed her cheek, and could still feel the warmth of his touch when she crawled beneath the sheets a short while later, Bodhi sound asleep in his travel crib, Marley snoring softly on the pillow beside her.
~ oOo ~
The following morning, Indie woke with a start.
Her eyes flashed open as she flew upright with a gasp, heart pounding a rapid tattoo.